


The Firebird

by KuraNova



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Embarrassing Childhood Photos, Fluff, M/M, Needy!Noctis, Smut, positive male relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraNova/pseuds/KuraNova
Summary: When Prompto finds an embarrassing childhood photo of Noct, the prince worries about how it makes him look. Prompto thinks that his lover is only more adorable for it.





	The Firebird

**Author's Note:**

> So uh ...  
> This was supposed to be something entirely different and now I'm here, wondering why I wrote this without any direction and suddenly made it smut practice.  
> *nervous shrug?*

“What’s  _ The Firebird _ ?” Prompto asked, peering at the list of book titles lining the shelves inside King Regis’ study. Noctis’ dad had what Prompto would call good taste, spotting a few familiar classics like  _ The Iliad _ ,  _ A Tale of Two Cities _ , and  _ War and Peace _ . He’d never read any of them, of course, except the ones he’d been forced to in school, but he could appreciate the artistry in a good book. The same kind of effort and dedication went into creating anything, and he could relate, given his love of photography. Sometimes it took hours to get just the  _ right _ shot.

Cor, who was standing just inside the door, keeping an eye on Prompto while he waited for an audience with the king, chuckled in a way that had Prompto eyeing him suspiciously. The Marshal  _ never _ laughed like that and, he noticed, never smirked so wide either.

“Go ahead and take a look,” the man said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking way too smug about Prompto looking inside a simple book.

The hell was in it?

Warily, he fingered the spine of the volume as he wiggled it out from between two huge encyclopedias and took a seat on the hardwood floor beneath him to settle the book in his lap. The cover was red,  _ Firebird, of course _ , Prompto thought, the full title shimmering up at him in cheap gold print. “Oh,” he said, still not fully understanding Cor’s reaction, “It’s a ballet.”

“Yep,” The Marshal replied, still smirking. “Starring Noctis.”

Prompto immediately flipped to the next page, finding a picture of a  _ very _ young and grumpy-looking Noctis beneath the title  _ Prince Ivan Tsarevich. _ “No. Freaking. Way.” Prompto laughed, thinking the image of his boyfriend decked out in tights, a leotard, and a sparkly, frilly shirt was just about the most adorable thing he’d ever seen in his life. “He’s so cute! How old was he?”

Cor paused, thinking a moment. “Probably four or five. Pissy as ever. His father enrolled him in the Royal Ballet Youth Program so he’d make friends.”

“Yeah he doesn’t look very happy,” Prompto replied, laughing at the defiant way Noctis had angled his head in the picture so that his dark hair fell over his eyes, and the familiar, angry, scrunch to the bridge of his nose. 

“Your Highness,” Cor spoke quietly.

Prompto looked up from the photo to see the king stepping through the doorway with Gladio’s dad, Clarus, close on his heels. Snapping the book closed, he quickly got to his feet and bowed at the waist, cheeks flushing at being caught practically cooing over a picture of grumpy baby Noctis. “Afternoon, Your Highness.” Crap, that was a little too informal, right? Ugh, he was  _ terrible _ at remembering the proper way to say things to Noct’s dad. He was such a pleb. 

Regis took one look at Prompto’s nervous expression and waved his hand in a way Prompto could only interpret as ‘don’t worry about it’. He hadn’t been with Noctis for very long, just a few months, but that was enough to get a decent read on his dad’s personality. 

He was a pretty nice guy, actually, when Prompto stopped worrying enough about making a good impression to notice. Which is why he wasn’t surprised when the king motioned for the book and then directed Prompto to sit on the leather armchair facing his desk. 

“Good afternoon, Prompto,” He replied kindly, rounding his desk while Prompto dropped like a graceless sack of flour into the chair. 

Prompto couldn’t help his awkwardness. His knees got shaky every time he spoke one on one with  _ the King of freaking Lucis _ . But the king didn’t seem to notice, or mind, at all, and pointed at the book Prompto now held in his lap.

“You’ll never believe this, but I actually had to  _ pay _ him to go through with it.”

Prompto looked down at the book, then back up at the king. “Noctis?”  _ Duh, Noctis! _ Prompto inwardly rolled his eyes at himself. Who the hell else was looking too cute for words in a fluffy, glittery leotard. 

The king ignored the awkward reply. “Five dollars a week if he made it through practice, and I  _ believe _ The Marshal greased the wheel by promising a dinner at Noctis’ favorite pancake house should he actually go through with the performance.” His eyes were smiling when he looked up at Prompto from where he’d been eyeing a series of reports on the desk. “As you probably guessed, he was stubborn about it, but he did it.”

Clarus snorted, sharing a look with Cor. “About a hundred chocolate chip pancakes later…”

“I swear he was making me pay for every hour he spent in that glitter-covered leotard with each bite. Surprised the little punk didn’t explode,” The Marshal sighed.

By now Prompto had flipped open the book again, making to the, professionally done, pictures of the final performance . He heard the king laugh above him at Cor’s comment, and Prompto imagined Noctis shoveling as much food into his mouth as possible to make his experience worth it.

“Did you bring your portfolio, Prompto?” The king finally asked, seating himself across the desk from Prompto.

“Uh yes, right!” Prompto perked up, leaning over the arm of his chair to search his bag. He and the king had spoken before about a man he knew who owned a gallery. Apparently the guy had an interest in photography, and Noct’s dad had been nice enough to get into contact with him on Prompto’s behalf to see about getting him a showing there. 

Prompto pulled the sturdy, black vinyl case out of his bag and placed it in Regis’ hands, curious about what the king himself would think of his work. Prompto was an amateur, after all, and nowhere near as talented as whoever it was that had been decorating the citadel gallery for the last fifty years. 

Hell, most of his photos were of animals.

“I thought your work was very good before, but you’ve improved since last spring, Prompto,” the king smiled up at him. “You should absolutely do this for a career, should you choose to go back to school.”

Prompto felt his entire face flush. “Th-thank you, Your Highness.”

The king gave him a dry look at the use of the title that reminded Prompto of Noctis’ almost-scowl from the book, but he didn’t say anything more, and while he scanned some of the photos into his computer to show the gallery owner, Prompto returned his attention to  _ The Firebird _ . 

It was then that the object of Prompto’s affection wandered into the office, looking like he’d just had his insides kicked out of him - probably by Gladio. “Hey Cor, is Prompto- Oh! There you are.”

Prompto smiled at his friend, and held up the book. “Noct! I didn’t know you did ballet.”

Noctis froze, the mortified blush spreading over his cheeks making Prompto feel only a  _ little _ guilty. “Where the hell’d you find that?”

“Your dad’s bookshelf. Have you looked at this picture of yourself,” Prompto grinned. “You’re sooo cute!”

Noctis shot his dad a withering glare, to which the king only shrugged and turned away to hide a smile, pretending to fix something with the scanner. Clarus was less subtle. “You were pretty damn cute,” he said. “Gladiolus thought you looked like a cupcake.”

“Yeah well he was eight and all he ever thought about was food,” Noctis grumbled. He walked over to where Prompto sat and tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the damning book out of his boyfriend’s hands. “Haven’t you seen enough?” he demanded.

Prompto shook his head. “No way, dude! This is adorable, and you look like you were a pretty good dancer.”

“Was not,” Noctis argued, trying again to snatch the book away.

Prompto twisted in the seat, away from Noctis, and hid his smile with the pages. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know.”

Noctis followed him, leaned over the arm of the chair and  gave him that  _ look _ that promised payback later, and Prompto felt a spike of heat lance through him. Quickly, he looked around to see if anyone had noticed, relieved when it looked like they were all still distracted with Noctis’ embarrassment. Noctis, for his part, took advantage of Prompto’s focus and plucked the book from his fingers.

“Hey!”

“Too slow!” Noctis teased Prompto, quickly shelving the book before turning back to find Prompto straightening himself in the chair. “Come on, we gotta go, Ignis is waiting with the car.”

“You can pick your work up tomorrow, if you’re here,” the king spoke before Prompto could ask him if they were finished. “There are a few more pieces I want to add to this email.”

“Right,” Prompto replied, bowing quickly at the waist before picking up his bag. “Thank you again, Your Highness.”

“It’s no trouble, Prompto. Have a good night.”

Prompto smiled, managing a “You too, Your Highness” before Noctis practically dragged him from the room. They were about halfway down the hall before he was allowed to walk on his own.

“Please,  _ please _ forget you ever saw that, Prompt,” Noctis whined, which only made Prompto smile.

“Not a chance, buddy. The image is seared into my retinas forever.”

Noctis groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands as he led them to the parking garage where Ignis waited for them. They were in the car, seated side by side in the back when Prompto spoke again. 

“It’s not the end of the world, Noct. Really, I’m not teasing you when I’m saying you were cute. You know I’ve never seen pictures of you as a kid?”

The tension in his boyfriend’s shoulders seemed to ease, and he scooted closer to Prompto. They were pressed together from shoulder to thigh, so near that Noctis could slouch down and rest his head on Prompto’s shoulder.

“It’s embarrassing,” Noctis grumbled, sighing against Prompto’s neck. “I hated ballet.”

“Well,” Prompto hummed, reaching up to run a hand through Noctis’ hair, sweaty from his earlier workout. “You’re still cute, even without the leotard.”

“I’m going to burn that stupid book. I didn’t think dad still had it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you so badly.” Prompto pressed his cheek against Noctis’ hair, breathing in the familiar scent of sweat and shampoo he buried his nose in almost every night. “I’ll shut up about it.”

Noct’s hand slid across Prompto’s thigh, fingers curling around while his thumb brushed the inside of his knee. “For the record, you’re cuter than me,” Noctis smirked, turning to press a kiss against Prompto’s chin. 

“Nuh uh. No way are we getting into one of these arguments. We still haven’t settled which one of us loves the other more. Which is me, obviously.” 

Prompto yelped when Noctis pinched the inside of his thigh. “No way.”

They both laughed at that, and Prompto butted his head up against Noctis’ to place a kiss squarely on his mouth. “I love you.”

They really had made a concerted effort to at least shower before they fell all over each other when they reached Noctis’ apartment, but the prince had pounced first, and Prompto wasn’t the type of person to deny him anything. Not that he would have, if he was, what with Noctis’ hands down his pants, gripping his ass and holding him in place so that he could grind his hard arousal against his thigh. Noctis was never patient about sex, nor was he particularly gentle, but Prompto shuddered beneath his touch anyway, ghosting a hand up along Noctis’ bare ribs before tweaking one of his prince’s nipples between his fingers.

Noctis whined into Prompto’s mouth, of course, biting down hard on his lower lip before soothing the mark with his tongue. “Touch me more, Prompt.”

Prompto didn’t bother telling Noctis that it was a little difficult, given the prince was damn near plastered to his chest and writhing like an eel, but Prompto did as he was asked. Slipping a hand down into the cleft of Noctis’ ass, he nudged Noctis’ face to the side with a firm kiss to his cheek and pressed two fingers into his friend’s mouth.

Noctis shuddered, and slurped down the digits with a hunger that made Prompto’s cock twitch, desperate for attention. He almost thought about asking Noct to take care of him first, because at this rate things were probably not going to last very long, but by the time he thought he could speak the words well enough to make sense the Prince’s fingers were dancing along the underside of his arousal and his teeth were biting at the pads of his fingers. 

“Please,” he whined again, thrusting his ass back into Prompto’s hand.

Prompto squeezed the flesh beneath his palm before spreading it wide, taking his slickened fingers from Noct’s mouth and reaching down to tease his hole. “I’ve got you,” Prompto grunted, feeling Noctis’ fingers squeeze hard around the base of his shaft. 

His fingers met little resistance as first one, then another slipped into the prince with ease. Noctis’ entire body vibrated against Prompto, his long, keening moan muffled against the collar of Prompto’s shirt. “Prompto,” he huffed, jerking his hips back against the fingers inside of him. 

“Yeah?” he asked, adding a third finger into Noct’s twitching hole. 

“I want to-” he grunted. For a moment Noct’s hand fumbled between them, then finally gripped both of their cocks firmly, stroking up and  _ squeezing _ before he began to thrust his hips. He was fucking himself on Prompto’s fingers, while rubbing his cock against him in the tight grip of his hand. Meanwhile, his other hand reached up to grab a fistful of Prompto’s hair, and tugged him down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

Prompto sighed into his mouth, focusing on the slide of his prince’s cock against his own as he changed the angle of his wrist and pressed his fingers  _ up _ into Noctis, hitting that just-right spot that made his hips stutter. 

Noctis was a loud lover, and the high-pitched wail that followed did not disappoint. Prompto watched his face carefully, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted while his eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks. Never, he thought, was there a more beautiful human being than Noctis Lucis Caelum.

“Close?” Prompto breathed into Noctis’ ear when his prince’s hand went slack between them. For his part, Prompto’s fingers were unrelenting, pressing forward into Noctis’ prostate even as he tried to bring himself relief by inching away. 

“Y-yeah,” Noctis replied, his breaths stirring Prompto’s hair. 

He yelped a moment later when Prompto’s free hand covered his own, tightening the grip on their combined arousals. Slowly, Prompto began to work himself against his lover, and just a few minutes more of showering his needy prince with attention, Noctis came with a shudder and a low cry. He clung to Prompto tightly, whining again when he realized his friend hadn’t finished.

“Let me?” he asked, already reaching for Prompto’s cock.

Hours later, when they had both made it to bed satisfied and exhausted and Prompto had curled himself around Noctis to prepare to sleep, he heard his phone go off. Careful, so he wouldn’t disturb his already sleeping lover, Prompto reached over him to the nightstand and unlocked his phone to see he’d received a notification from Cor. Curious, he opened the message, and grinned widely at the image he’d received. 

It was the picture of Noctis, from the first page of  _ The Firebird _ . ‘Blackmail’ read the description.

Prompto smiled down at his sleeping prince, brushing his unruly dark hair from his face. “Not up for debate,” he said quietly. “You are definitely the cutest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can we all agree Noctis is an adorable, selfish, needy little shit?  
> I honestly love him for it.


End file.
